Skypaints
milky handprints in the sky
fingerpaints and orange dye
swirling colors a child's spy
splattered paints appease the eye
childs' prints make up the sky
poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
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A Peace; A Piece
there's a peace kept gently cupped in my hands
a tiny, living, breathing peace
a solitary, intrinsic peace
kept alive by my heartbeat and my hope
a piece of an as-of-yet untold tomorrow
a piece of sunshine and unfulfilled justice
that every man, woman, and child
holds cradled in their hands
a piece of a worldly, blood-weary peace
poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
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Frosty on His Flag (Clementine Sweet)
frosty is lonely
he hangs from a winter blue flag by a pink-roofed house
being blown by a salt-sea breeze
he has no snow people to talk to
he ripples his cloth edges among the sky-high palm trees and
above the candy-green grass
frosty is an outcast
to contrast the deep blue of his flag lies the pale desert sky,
shot through with bright Cali sunshine
frosty is a picture of out-of-placement:
he hangs and he hangs
he sighs and he sighs
all the while homesick
all the while thinking
that sometimes, sometimes
irony is clementine sweet
poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
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Mother (My Point of View)
Sewing machine:
Jean patches,
Superman capes,
Dress hems 10pm,
Night before the concert.
Kitchen sink:
Baking-powder biscuits,
Crock pot beef stew,
Chicken with carrots and potatoes.
Not college food.
Minivan:
Shuttle the boys from school,
Aftercare, soccer, track,
Basketball, haircut, orthodontist's.
Buy printer ink, daddy bread,
Poster board for Elias's project due Tuesday.
College mail box:
[...] Read more
poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
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On the Eve of my High School Graduation
(written for my cousin Connor who graduated this spring. Congrats Connor!)
Today I am the I
I have written about:
'What I want to be when I grow up' essays,
'A meaningful experience'
Acrostic poems written with newly learned cursive.
Today I am the product of
Twelve years of schooling, of
Brow-furrowing, industrial-erasing,
Citing sources, raising my hand,
Carrying bathroom passes,
Wishing for Fridays.
Today I am free to explore,
Discover, learn, grow, create
the un-typed stories, the un-thought-of ideas.
I have the ability and the responsibility to bring change
To my world, nation, state, town, neighborhood.
[...] Read more
poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
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Boston Back Bay.1: 40pm
He comes walking down the dark dusty cement platform
Black guitar on his back
Black amp in one hand
Shiny black shoes that flash as he moves
Over the crackling loudspeaker comes a list
Train 137’s various destinations on the east coast
I know at once that his is New York City
Penn Station
The place where thousands of young artists, clutching worn twenties
In each sweaty hand
Begin their long and treacherous journey.
Reaching for what may end up to be fame, or shame
He’s trying to “break into the music industry”
An eagle tattoo on his left bicep
Reveals his inner rebel
Baring his soul in rhythmic lyrics to strangers
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poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
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As We Fall
as we fall into the water
let us clasp our hands together
bright day is done,
black night has come
washing over our heads
an icy wind is blowing
grasp the liferaft we are throwing
we'll make it through, with one another
though our minds may start to sever
and float off into space
keep your head above black water
keep it steady, do not falter
we'll help you float, if you try to try
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poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
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Phone Call to Little Brothers Far Away
Baby, I miss your handshakes
Hugs
Soccer balls
Screams at 8am
Saturday
Outside my door
Metal cars
I’d trip over
Baby, I miss the summers we spent on couches
At tables, in libraries, with flashcards,
The Bob books you hated so I
Wrote you my own.
Together we tackled all 26 letters
And their basic three-letter combinations:
The H’s and W’s, the’s and bat’s we worked especially on.
(By the end we had run out of words you knew that
Began with a “hhh” sound) .
Gina, we’re bored. What are you doing?
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poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
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